Got It Memorized?
by LickSkillet
Summary: Axel is a friend of Seifer's. Roxas hates Seifer, and thusly Axel- but the guy is almost... nice? High rating, because I can never tell you how far it's gunna go. AU
1. Guilty By Association

**Author's Notes:**

I know that this isn't what you all voted for on the Poll- on the 4 votes so far, **NARUSASU** won out. But, luckily for the one person who voted AkuRoku, I started this thing a WHILE back. It's going to have chapters, yes. ;D I think I did a good job…. I was starting to feel like Siefer and Hayner were turning into Sora and Riku, and that worries me… I try to keep all the characters unique, and all their interactions unique as well.

Normal Disclaimer… really appreciated reviews!!

* * *

"Hayner?"

The one-bedroom penthouse suite that Roxas was standing in was eerily empty. It was only 8 AM, but Hayner wasn't one to oversleep.

"Hayner? Yo, Hayner! We're gunna be late!"

Out of the bedroom stumbled a shirt-less, boxer-clad redhead, whose flaming spikes were disheveled, but still stuck nearly straight up off his head. Roxas' mouth worked at forming words.

"…The fuck?" he gasped, trying to wrap his head around the idea of _another _male, half-naked, being in the apartment. The redhead's gaze ran up and down Roxas' body.

"Well, hey there!" He smirked, voice gravelly from sleep but still managing to sound annoyingly nasal. "May I help you?"

"Why the hell are you in Hayner's house?" Roxas growled, still confused.

"Hayner?"

"Yeah, Hayner Ai-" Roxas stopped and caught himself with a grimace. "…Hayner _Almasy_, the dude who lives here."

Recognition lit up in the redhead's vivid emerald eyes, and his smirk widened.

"OH, Seifer's little _companion!_" The redhead laughed. Roxas noticed that the older man had flames on his otherwise black boxers.

"Wait… Have you done something to Seifer? Or Hayner? Shit! Hayner are you alright?!" Roxas surged forward and closed the gap between them, trying to get into the bedroom. Nasal-voice reached out a long-fingered hand and stopped him.

"Who the fuck's there?" a familiar, deep voice grumbled. Roxas pushed harder against the restraining appendage and poked his head around the doorway, able to see Seifer spooned against Hayner's back, chin resting against his best friend's shoulder.

"Seifer?" he muttered dumbly.

"Grumpy!" Seifer grinned brilliantly, which of course made Roxas feel guilty. While he had come to accept Seifer more in the past few months, he only _really_ tolerated him when Hayner was around. And right now, Hayner was asleep…

"Look… ah, I'm here to get Hayner." Seifer blinked at him, then bent over to kiss Hayner passionately on the lips for a long moment, after which he moved to roll off the bed. Roxas growled deep in his throat.

"Oh, come on, Seifer! He's asleep, for God's sake!" And then, he saw that Seifer was… naked. With a loud squawk, the teen plastered a hand over his face.

"Jesus, Roxas. You're acting like you've never seen a naked guy before!"

Roxas merely gave an embarrassed grunt in reply, waiting until he heard the sounds of a loud scuffle before he opened his eyes and saw Seifer pulling on a plain black t-shirt; he was already wearing a pair of jeans.

It had been hard enough to give his consent to the man who had practically been a pedophile to Hayner until the boy's eighteenth birthday, but Roxas didn't _actually _want to have visual evidence.

"Where're you and Hayner going, Roxas?" Seifer asked, now donning his trademark trench coat. Roxas shrugged.

"The Struggle tournament," he muttered, noting how Seifer's eyes widened and he gazed down at the sleeping teen behind him. The older blonde reached out –it almost seemed absentmindedly- and ran a finger down Hayner's cheek. Against everything he knew, Roxas felt a pang of near jealousy when he saw that look in Seifer's eyes.

"…Is he competing?" Seifer asked softly.

"No, but I am." Roxas answered quickly, trying to keep Seifer calm.

"Hey, Shorty, is this the same Struggle tournament that's being held in the sports center?"

Roxas jumped; he'd all but forgotten that nasal-voice was there.

"Seifer, who _is _this guy?" he hissed, scooting away and listening to the amused chuckle that came from the lanky man beside him. To be blunt, it looked like redhead had been stretched; all of his body parts were long, but at the same time graceful.

Wait. Had he just used the word _'graceful'_ to describe another _man?_

"Axel was my neighbor way back when," Seifer muttered, shrugging. "I met up with him again my freshman year in college. He was a senior, back for his Masters. When he needed a place to stay the night before the competition, - he's competing- of course I let him stay. Hayner approved as well, and that sealed it…"

At the mention of his name, Hayner stirred. The poor boy was given less than two seconds to breathe before Seifer descended on him, drawing a startled gasp from teen.

"I need to get out of here in ten minutes, Seifer!" Roxas called over his shoulder.

"Wait- Seifer, is Roxas here? Shit, Seifer, stop- Oh…!"

Roxas shoved his hands over his ears and hurried faster into the living room.

"TEN MINUTES, SEIFER!" he half-shouted. "Not even you can do it that fast!" Beside him, Roxas heard a deep chuckle.

"If you need to get there in a hurry, kid, I can drive you." Axel offered, pulling a shirt over his head. Roxas found he wasn't surprised when he saw the word "Pyro" printed across it in blazing gradient letters – like fire. He connected gazes with the redheads greener-than-green eyes, and noticed the two small, black, upside-down black triangles – almost like harshly angled tears – beneath each said eye. When had the man put on those skinny jeans? Roxas had been standing right beside him….

"Look, Alex…"

"The name's _Axel_," the redhead corrected automatically, in a tone that implied he was used to saying this.

"Yeah, okay, _AXEL_; it all depends on whether Seifer can keep his dick to himself for a while and-"

"Roxas!" Hayner hissed venomously, appearing out of nowhere and glaring daggers at his taller, more muscular friend. Roxas shut up immediately.

"Pyro here offered to give us a ride!" he spewed out, the words nearly indecipherable as he tugged Hayner towards the elevator.

"Hayner, give me a call when you get out, okay?"

"Dear God Seifer, he's almost nineteen years old, treat him like an adult!"

Roxas caught Seifer's tragically wounded gaze when he turned back around, the man composing himself to glare with open hate at the tall teen before the doors came together.

"The name's _Axel_, buddy." The tall redhead repeated in Roxas's ear. The blue-eyed blonde jumped; this guy was a fucking ninja. It unnerved Roxas that the man was so good at _sneaking._ With an agitated growl, Roxas shrugged, purposely letting one shoulder pound painfully against the man's mid chest – yes, he was _that_ tall.

"Whatever."

* * *

When they all arrived at the center, Roxas shoved the ticket into Hayner's hands before further pushing his friend towards the entrance for audience members.

"Kick some ass, Roxas!" Hayner called over his shoulder, and Roxas grinned, despite himself, before turning and heading towards the competitor's changing rooms. Unfortunately, redhead stuck to him like glue.

"Aren't you a little _old_ to be competing?" Roxas hissed venomously, unable to bring himself to warm to _anyone_ who connected himself with Seifer.

"Why? Do I look old?"

The look on Axel's face was priceless.

"No… although, it depends on your definition of old. You look like you're in your late twenties."

All that Roxas in reply was a deep chuckle. Jesus, was that the only sound this guy could make?

"Aren't you a little _short _to be competing?" the older man jibed back. Roxas stiffened, halfway through the doorway, turning around at the waist and burying his fist in Axel's gut. For the most part, his blow glanced off of strong abdomen muscles, but it still caused the tall man to gasp and huff out a barking laugh.

"Don't _ever_ call me short!" Roxas growled, glad to finally have an excuse to hit someone before he sauntered –in a masculine manner- into the locker room.

* * *

Now, locker room was a pretty loose term, considering that Struggle Ball isn't really all about uniforms. All that was required was a dinky harness, upon which small –yet heavy- clear plastic balls hung, connected via Velcro, and a competition shirt. Needless to say, it didn't take long for all the contestants to get geared up and ready to roll. Or Struggle. Standing and peering out into the arena, Roxas felt nervous for a split second as he watched the large-screen LCD TV, anxiously awaiting to see whom he'd be paired up against.

For the sake of time, four circular arenas had been set up in the center of the sports center, surrounded my screaming fans. Four matches would go at once, finish, and then the computer would re-roll the battle pairs. Roxas wasn't part of the first four groups, and he was glad to be able to sit back and see what kind of competition he was up against today.

The redhead was in the first group. Without a second thought, Roxas snickered at the idea of the tall and lanky man fighting it out against some of the larger, beefier opponents. Sure, the pyro had height on his side, but he sure as hell couldn't have much muscle hanging off those bones.

The loud, bullhorn like buzzer sounded, and the four groups immediately burst into action. It was hard for Roxas to keep his attention off of the flaming redhead. The man was agile, his lengthy limbs flying weightlessly through the air as he skillfully spun the Struggle bat between his hands.

Strategically, Roxas kept tabs on his fighting moves. The man was fond of charging forward and leaping up to bat balls off the front and back of his opponents harness, easily executing a flip and landing easily on his feet. Every time he used the move, the entire gymnasium would grow still, waiting for him to fall on his face. Mid-air, he would perfectly switch the bat from hand to hand as necessary, pounding ruthlessly against the leather harness and the small balls that made loud cracking noises as they smashed against the floor.

Roxas gulped.

After making it to the semi finals, it was down to the final two matches that would determine the fighting pair. Roxas was up against a tall- even taller than Axel- and muscled man. He was grinning openly to the crowd, and flipping his hair.

Roxas charged forward the minute the buzzer went off, holding his bat out to the side and keeping it horizontal to the floor. Setzer- his opponent –barely registered Roxas's movement before he'd sidestepped fluidly. Luckily, Roxas had been watching all of his could-be opponents, and quickly followed through and was able to get in a solid downward swipe on the right side of Setzer's harness, showering the floor with glittering plastic orbs.

Setzer's cocky, relaxed smile dissolved into a mortified scowl, and he responded to Roxas's downward sweep with a wide arc at waist level. Roxas couldn't hold back the loud laugh as he leapt back a yard or two, effortlessly removing himself from harm. With his avoiding skills deterred, Setzer really wasn't _that_ good at Struggle ball. When the ending buzzer went off, Roxas had lost barely ten balls, while Setzer had a meager three left over.

The announcer called for a brief break, and Roxas was ecstatic. Swinging his bat over his shoulder and walking tiredly into the locker room, he tossed his vest and bat into a bin near the entrance, debating taking a shower, or just toweling off.

Of course, the sight of a certain shirtless redhead heading towards the public shower stalls was the only incentive Roxas had to turn heel and storm off towards the stack of clean, fluffy towels. No way he was getting even halfway naked with that creeper around.

So, it would all come down to this. Roxas splashed cold water across his face, toweling his face dry and gently padding the back of his sweaty neck. He'd watched Axel enough to know what his moves were, but there would be no getting around the redhead's insane, ninja-like moves. Steeling himself, Roxas threw the towel down unto a bench and paced anxiously by the exit, jumping when the buzzer sounded.

"Nervous, Shorty?"

Roxas whirled around, the amused smirk a stark contrast against the man's genuinely caring tone of voice. The short blonde stiffened his shoulders and pulled a harness over his head and grabbed a bat, not even bothering to reply to the cocky fighter. If he had to go down, he'd go down a jackass.

Axel strode nonchalantly into the ring, dropping into a crouch and bouncing ever so slightly unto and off of the balls of his feet. He tossed the bat back and forth between his hands, spinning it much like a baton twirler. Roxas lost his concentration, watching the mesmerizing swirling, not hearing the starting whistle until he felt the entire front of his chest assaulted with sharp, pin-point blows, the sounds of little orbs hitting the ground, sounding faintly like wind chimes.

He leapt back, swinging his bat out as a weak barrier against any more of Axel's advances. Roxas took a quick tally.

_Shit,_ he though, tightening his grip on the bat. _That bastard lost me half my balls!_

The teen straightened out, ready to face his opponent, but was barely able to blink before Axel was charging forward. Roxas knew what was coming. When Axel leapt up in the air, Roxas shoved his bat upwards and into Axel's stomach before sliding forward and out of the man's reach. The redhead fell to the arena floor, curled up and wheezing. Roxas was able to see a smirk plastered on those lips just the same, and the shorter fighter growled. He rushed forward, but was only able to brush one or two balls off before Axel had leapt agilely up unto the balls of his feet, blocking the blow with his own bat.

The crowd was going wild. Roxas pressed his bat down against the redhead's, able to see the sweat rolling down his opponent's face. Well, at least he would be able to say he made Axel _work_ for his trophy. He grunted and pressed harder, trying to give one futile last push, fighting to find a way to land at least one more blow, loosen a few more balls.

Out of nowhere, the buzzer sounded. Roxas started, and the lapse in concentration sent him flying unto his back, a grinning pedophile crouched over him. Poor Roxas had barely enough time to formulate a smart comeback before the referee yanked Axel up and hoisted a huge, colorful trophy into the redhead's hands. It was made of spun metal, painted gold, swirls arching upwards to curve around and support four large marbles in solid colors – red, blue, green and yellow.

Roxas got himself back up onto his feet and charged into the locker room, throwing his harness into the collective bin and stripping the sweaty competition shirt from his chest. Outside, Axel was still being congratulated. He angrily pulled his shirt out of a loaner locker and over his head, grumbling and slamming the locker shut with a loud shout.

Who the _fuck_ did that _prick_ think that he was, barging into a city that he didn't even live in and stealing first place from the people who really deserved it. The crowd still cheered, high-pitched shrieks penetrating Roxas' concentration. Well, this had been a colossal waste of time. Jerking his cell phone clumsily from his baggy shorts pocket, the blonde teen dialed Hayner's number- there was no way he was going to get a ride home with that … that…!

_Hey, you've reached Hayner Almasy's cell…._

With a growl, Roxas slammed his slider phone closed, deciding to just walk home as he pushed out of the stuffy, smelly bathroom. Besides, Hayner and Axel both had to get to the same place, right? Roxas needed to go to _his own_ dinky apartment.

"Hey, Shortstuff! …Wait up, Blondie!"

Oh, come **on**. Roxas ground his teeth together, speeding up and bowing his head down towards the sidewalk.

"Roxas!" the voice was harsh and angry as a warm hand clasped unto his elbow. Curse the redhead's long legs.

"What-" Roxas whirled around, a biting retort poised to fire, only to have a sparkling, cold sky-blue marble pressed into his palm. The heated anger fizzled out of his lower stomach, leaving him slack jawed and childishly holding the glimmering crystal ball up to the cloudy sunlight. It sparkled intensely, and Roxas could swear he saw something move inside.

"A…Axel, what?" He finally tore his eyes up from the mesmerizing colors and was lost in Axel's deep ivy-green eyes instead.

"You deserve _something_ for being second." The taller man shrugged, smiling faintly, showing disinterest. "I'm taking Hayner back to Seifer's, do you want a lift?" Roxas blushed, embarrassed by his earlier thoughts.

"No, thanks. I have to get home and study- I don't live too far." Why was he lying? Couldn't he just say that he didn't want to ride with the pyro? And since when was he carrying on regular conversation with this guy?

"Oh, alright. Nice meetin' ya, kid!" The man gave a warm smile and a playful two-fingered salute before he spun on his heel and strode slowly away, leaving Roxas in the cold wind.


	2. Coffee and Compositions

**Author's Note:**

Enjoy! Nothing too serious… ;D

* * *

It was true that Roxas didn't live too far away. He simply got on a bus, marble pressed into his pocket, thinking quietly to himself. He lived on the less industrial side of Hollow Bastion, in a beat-up, cheap apartment close to the university.

After disembarking from the large – and mostly vacant – bus, Roxas had merely a block to walk until he was home. The blonde teen curled his arms around himself to keep the cold wind at bay, faintly distracted by the soft clink of the crystal against his phone within his pocket.

The apartment complex loomed up around the next corner; to the left half, the apartments were new. To the right- where Roxas lived –the building was much more of an eyesore.

The gray-maroon paint was dull, dirty and chipping in some places, clothing hung over balcony railings; rust coated most of the outside metal structures. Sighing to himself at the faintly homey sight, Roxas pushed his key into the lock and let himself into the 'main lobby', checking the mail before wandering down the hall into his first-story room.

It was big – not nearly as big as Seifer's place – but perfectly suited for tiny little Roxas. The doorway opened up into a kitchen, which was more or less a three-foot-wide strip of linoleum flanked by a fridge, oven, some vomit-green counters and white cabinets, and one white microwave.

Roxas slid out of his Etnies, leaving them in to the entryway before purposely sliding across the slick floor in his socks, dropping his keys and phone on the countertop as he passed. When he ran out of linoleum, the teen clumsily regained his balance and shuffled across the khaki-brown carpeted living room, a large balcony with sliding glass doors looking out into the parking lot. The room was laid with a well-used gray couch dividing the room in two, turned to face a small TV on the left side.

Behind the couch was a white wall with a door, which, when opened, lead into Roxas's bedroom. The dirty carpet continued into an OCD-neat set of bookshelves, a desk with an old, wheezing computer, and a crisp, starchy, well-made bed.

But Roxas chose to throw himself down unto the couch, legs draping over one arm of the old piece of furniture, even with his short height. He drew the smooth sphere from his pocket, though very little light was coming into the room now, which dulled the magical aura that had once surrounded the little memento.

Roxas yawned, staring deeply into the bauble, trying hard to find the movement within it again. The boy was too tired to try for long, however, and soon fell asleep, the marble dropping from his fingers and bouncing under the couch.

* * *

Almost a week later, while Roxas edited his sheet music that was due the next day for Music Composure class, his cell phone rang, from its usual place on the kitchen counter. Pushing away from the desk with an angry mumble, the short blonde hurried to answer the trilling device.

"Hello, Roxas Klein here." He answered, eager to get back finish his song.

"Hey, Roxas!" a bright voice chirped.

"Oh, hey, Hayner."

"Well, don't sound so happy to hear from me."

"I was doing stuff for school, Hayner." Roxas pacified, grinning despite himself.

"Well, I was just calling to see if you wanted to go get some coffee with me. I'll be headed your way as it is…"

Roxas rubbed at the tense, aching muscles of his lower neck- he could thank his homework for that. He could also use something warm, and it wouldn't kill him to be social every once in a while.

"As long as Seifer isn't coming, I'll be at the café in a few minutes."

Hayner laughed. Roxas hadn't been joking.

After he'd hung up, Roxas turned off the lights in his bedroom and meandered through the kitchen to the door, grabbing his keys and pushing them down in his pocket along with his phone and the blue marble. Donning a thin brown hoodie and slipping into his sneakers, Roxas left, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Outside was gray and cloudy, the beginnings of winter slowly crawling into the dreary city. To think, that barely a year ago, back in the warmth and spring, Hayner and Seifer had first met, and now it was practically impossible to think or see one without the other. Smirking ever so faintly at the thought, Roxas pulled his hood up against a harsh wind, pushing his hands deep into his jean pockets.

Roxas was faintly jealous. Sure, he knew that Hayner was happy, and that was good, but where was Roxas's…. well… Where was his big fling, significant other, _anything?_

Having been a social recluse and being born with a short temper and pessimistic attitude hadn't made him exceptionally popular. There had been days when he'd counted his blessings to know Olette, Pence and Hayner. And then there had been the days when he'd have done anything for the courage to just end it all.

But now he was doing well- good college, learning about what interested him, working part time at the local music and instrument shop. And he couldn't help but be happy around Hayner, the way the other boy acted. He was radiating happiness these days.

Roxas entered the local café, relishing the warmth and the heady smell of coffee. He pulled his hood back, raked a hand back through his short, unruly blonde hair, and then proceeded to order for both himself and Hayner. Leaning back against the counter while waiting for the drinks, Roxas was startled out of his comfort-smell induced haze by a shock of red hair. Standing ramrod straight, he reached a hand absentmindedly into his pocket to worry at the marble, holding his breath and then scowling when Axel entered the café, followed by a very eager Hayner.

"Roxas!"

"Hayner, what-" Roxas's question was cut short by an employee yelling out that their drinks were ready. The two took their warm cups and slid into a nearby booth, Axel following and scooting unto Roxas's side.

"Hey there, Roxy." Axel smirked, reaching over and taking a swig from Roxas's latté, drawing an indignant squawk from the blue-eyed blonde.

"Hayner, what is _**he**_ doing here?!" he hissed, snagging his drink and bringing it close to his chest, glaring heatedly at the redhead.

"Why, Roxy-"

"He's staying with us for a while!" Hayner interjected, before hiding his face behind his hot chocolate.

"…Wait, what?" Roxas felt his face go slack, and caught side of Axel's shit-eating grin from the corner of his eye.

"I got a job down here," Axel explained. "I traded in my car for a motorcycle, but I have to fix it up. Until I can make the commute, Seifer's me stay with him."

"You did all of that in a week?" Roxas asked, incredulous, eyebrows climbing upwards.

"Amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it, Shortstuff." Axel winked knowingly, and Roxas felt a growl build in his throat.

"What's that, Roxas?" Hayner piped up, snatching something from Roxas's free hand.

"What?" Roxas snapped, tired of having to keep track of so many conversations at once. Hayner always seemed to be going a mile a minute, and his sudden fascination with whatever Roxas had been holding was a very badly veiled attempt to stop the building tension from escalating further.

"This marble thing. It's really pretty. Did Olette give it to you, or something?"

Roxas felt heat bloom at the back of his neck, able to feel Axel's gaze. He hadn't realized that he'd been messing with the damned thing.

"I… ah, well…" Roxas cleared his throat awkwardly, Hayner looking intently into the little blue sphere. "It was a gift."

"From who?"

"From Axel."

Roxas blinked, slowly, and then looked Hayner square in the eye. The other boy had finally looked up from the sparkling gem, and now was staring quizzically between Roxas and Axel.

"He never accepts gifts," Hayner said slowly. "You're really lucky, Axel. I'm surprised he didn't punch you or something."

"He'd already done that before the tournament," Axel snickered. Roxas sunk lower in his seat, reaching for the crystal.

"Hayner, please give it back. I have to get back and finish my piece."

"Oh, that's right! Roxas is majoring in Music Theory at Hollow Bastion State!"

Roxas bit back a groan, shoving the marble into his pocket and then awkwardly trying to find a way to get out of the booth without having to touch or talk to Axel.

"Mc Pissy Pants over here, into Music _Theory_?" But, instead of sounding scornful or incredulous, Axel managed to sound intrigued, in a good way.

Roxas stopped fidgeting, and blushed faintly.

"It's a lot less lame than it sounds." Roxas insisted. "I'm learning how to compose, I'm learning history… I'm doing what I love." He stopped talking, realizing how emotional he sounded. "And right now, I need to get back and finish my piece. Then, I have to practice it and be ready to perform next Monday-"

Axel stood and slid out of the booth, giving Roxas room to get out and leave. The blonde raked a hand back through his hair and said a snippy goodbye to Hayner, a tight smile pull across his features.

"Hey, Shorty-"

Roxas whirled around, angry at the physical contact and at the new nickname – it seemed like it was there to stay, and-

"You forgot your coffee." Axel grinned, shoving the still-hot drink into Roxas's hands. "I wanna come by and listen to you play, sometime." he added in a softer, gentler whisper. It was somewhat husky, and Roxas felt he could hear a touch of…. What was that emotion?

"Ah- alright." Roxas replied dumbly, slowly nodding his head up and down, with jerky, robotic motions. Something about having Axel looking at him so intensely, with those green eyes, in public --was Hayner watching? -- made Roxas nervous, which in turn made him act stupid. He licked his lips, blinked.

"Cool," Axel murmured, and then he was gone, sitting back at the booth, leaning casually back against the supple leather.

* * *

That Friday, as Roxas perched on his couch, guitar slung on his lap, music sheets spread out before him, his cell phone rang.

"Hehwhoa?" the pen he was chewing on distorted his words.

"Hey, short-stuff!"

"Axel?" Roxas spit the pen out of his mouth, brow furrowing. What the hell was Axel calling him for – and where did he get the number, anyway?

"Look, kid, I don't really know how to explain … Can I come over-"

Axel was cut off by a loud, shaky moan. Roxas blanched, and then flushed hot red.

"Are… Is… Hayner?!"

"Yes!" Axel hissed. "Can I come over, just for a few hours? I can't stand this… and without my car or the bike…"

"Uhm." A door slammed shut, and then everything went silent. "I… I guess."

"Great!" Axel crowed – quietly – and then heard two corresponding dings as the elevator opened and closed.

"So, Blondie, how exactly do I get to your place?"

* * *

Axel brought his fist down without a second thought against the door, standing in the hallway and receiving awkward looks from other tenants. He had been able to sneak his way in on the coattails of an elderly woman bringing in her groceries, which had saved him from having to call Roxas to open the main entrance for him.

The door opened, revealing Roxas with a distracted, intense gaze on his face, his hair much messier than was normal, from Axel's view. He was dressed warmly, grey cotton shirt with sleeves reaching just below the elbows, along with baggy sweatpants in a lighter shade. His furrowed brow didn't help the relaxed air that the clothing portrayed, though, and Axel was still on his toes.

"Come in," the blonde grumbled, turning heel and leading the way through a cramped kitchen, scowl keeping the line of his lips set.

To be courteous, Axel removed his sneakers, glancing around the tiny one-person abode.

"It's the perfect size for you, Roxy." he commented, watching Roxas draw a guitar up from behind a couch arm.

"Uh-huh," the blonde responded, laying the guitar expertly across his lap and gazing down at a messy avalanche of scribbled-upon composures. The boy was distracted, that much was for sure.

"You working on that class project?" Axel asked quietly, perching precariously on the opposite arm of the beaten couch.

"Yes." Roxas said snippily, hashing with quick, deliberate motions across the paper with a BIC pen.

"What have you got so far?"

"Ah… not much." Axel noted how Roxas slowed down, cocked his head to the side, and gave the redhead a puzzled look.

"Play for me?"

Axel was embarrassed by how pathetic he sounded, as if he were begging.

"Why are you so interested, Axel?"

"I never learned," he shrugged. "I have a deep respect for people patient enough to practice and keep up in music." To keep a lighter mood, he let a gentle smirk play on his lips. Roxas looked back at the music, contemplating. "My mother used to play the piano." Axel added, as if that changed anything.

The redhead remembered the way the music seemed to flow through her, like audible light and happiness.

"It's really not finished…" Roxas muttered, indignant, but he held his instrument closer to his chest- protectively, Axel noted -positioned his fingers on the strings, and strummed.

* * *

_You know this piece, Roxas._

_You've got the sheet music right in front of you, just look at the notes… don't look at the class…_

Roxas fidgeted in his seat as the performance before his own drew to a close, the girl who had been playing standing up, bowing. He thought the motion pretentious as he wrung his hands out beneath his desk.

"Roxas?" The teacher gazed over at him; glasses perched low on his nose, expression expectant.

Here we go.

The shorter blonde took sure steps to the front of the class, never stumbling, never once showing his nervousness. His arrogant, disinterested mask hid well his sweaty palms and thundering heartbeat. Roxas drew his guitar out over his lap, clutched tightly to the neck, double-checked that the thing was in tune, and straightened his music out on the stand that had been ever so nicely brought in by the professor, before finally he played.

Roxas wasn't entirely sure what emotions his song was based upon. When he'd first started writing, he really hadn't been feeling much of anything- apathy, mostly. Later, though, after Hayner's call, a little bit of irritation at needing to get the stupid song _done_. After the run in at the café, contemplation on everything, deep thoughts and feelings that were too tightly wound and tangled for the teen to try to decipher. The most intense part of the piece was done while in Axel's presence.

What started out stiff and awkward soon bloomed into light and airy and playful and bouncy and the hardest thing about it was getting this more whimsical, free-flowing sound to tie in with the rest of the music. In the end, he was happy with it. Altogether, it came together nicely, with a perfect beginning, climax and tapering end that echoed in the acoustic music hall for many long minutes afterwards.

Absently, in the time between the end of the song and realizing that the song was over, Roxas wanted to know what it would sound like when played on the piano.

But the class was suddenly applauding, and it broke over his daze and brought him out. He absently felt his face fall into a mask of a half-scowl, brows lowering and gaze hardening. The bell pealed, and the class filed out slowly, leaving Roxas behind to pack up his guitar into its case, making sure to keep the sheet music unwrinkled and pristine.

"Nicely done, Blondie." A deep, nasally yet husky voice approved, somewhere behind him. Roxas spun around, catching Axel in the act of descending the stairs, dressed in a form-fitting maroon t-shirt, black leather jacket, and long, loose black jeans. The darker colors made the neon green of his eyes shine, the red of his hair glow. The tattoos were stark against his white skin, matching with the black, darker tint of his clothing.

"What are you doing here?" Roxas half-growled, his tenor voice rebounding in the abandoned room.

"Glad to see you too, Roxas." Axel snorted, rolling his eyes. "I came by to hear you play- to hear the whole piece."

"How did you get in here?" Roxas found himself asking another question, unsure of how to react to this sort of … intrusion. "How did you even know where my class was?"

"Relax kid, I happen to know another student in the class. Demyx, maybe you've heard of him?"

"Demyx- the tall blonde dude who plays the sitar?"

"If a sitar is a freakishly long guitar, then yes, that's him."

Against his will, Roxas felt his smirk turn upwards at the corners.

"Loved the piece, by the way." Axel murmured.

And that was the beginning of a very healthy – violent at times – friendship.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Teehee. Roxas's last name is "small" in Dutch. Or at least, so says my translator. :D

Hope you all like the cliché line at the end. Going to be doing a bit of a time skip in the next chapter… I'll detail what went on, but I shan't document every single day between these guys- that would take forever. Thank you all for being patient! I'm working diligently on Chain of Events, but want to keep the quality up. 3


	3. Fiery Flings

**Author's Note:**

I'm worried that I've made Axel too light hearted in this chapter. I know he's the kind of guy to fool around, but he was kinda serious in the first installments, and I need to keep that up. For some reason all I wanted to do was make a clown out of him this time, so it's taken a long time to go through and… grow him up? I have no idea how to write for Larxene, so sorry if she sucks… I wanted to use a real character, and she's the only female that I feel okay making a 'bad' person. She's not bad; Axel just has no backbone!

And then there's Roxas. Ickle wittle Roxypoo. ;; I love him so much. I can understand his emotions better, so I feel that I write him best. It's still hard though, 'cause Roxas is no Sora, but he'd still try and deny being gay as long as possible. I hope all you fan girls are screaming at him to come out of the closet, or the next chapter's going to be a doozey.

* * *

Axel loves fire. Matches, candles, campfires, sparklers, fireworks, everything and anything. He smokes cigarettes, though Roxas feels it's just a reason to get to carry around a lighter. Axel was in college to get his masters in pyrotechnics, which was just an excuse to get near explosives; he was kicked out one semester into the course, for blowing up an entire lab wing. Roxas had always thought that was a bad idea.

Roxas loves music. God forbid anyone hear it, but he also loves to sing. Instead, he'd settled for a guitar and Music Theory at the city college. His job pays nine dollars an hour, and it involves him stocking and working the cashier at the small, locally run music store. Axel is secretly envious of Roxas' passion for something so normal and beautiful.

Demyx, an old friend of Axel's, has become a good friend of Roxas. He understands Roxas' love of music, and the two of them will waste a day being music nerds. The tall, lanky, older blond man plays the sitar, and openly enjoys singing. He and Roxas worked for a week together on one piece for their composure class, and Axel had a point in which he regretted ever introducing the two of them.

Axel finally worked his Yamaha into working condition nearly three months after that first Struggle tournament, and had managed to scrounge up enough money to have it painted a mix of black, silver and red. But with a working ride came the loss of a need to stay at Seifer's penthouse.

Roxas recommended – as a joke – that Axel look into fire fighting. He really hadn't meant for Axel to take the idea seriously – hadn't _wanted_ him to take the idea seriously. Axel has reverent respect for fire, but also gets cocky, and is easily seduced by it. So, when he announced that he had gotten an apartment and was enrolling in the local fire academy, Roxas nearly died. Died because he had been eating at the time and had begun to choke on his last bite of burger at the local diner.

* * *

"Yo, Roxy…"

"What, Axel?" The hotheaded blond glared up from eating, pushing a fry between pursed lips. No amount of friendship that he and the redhead shared would make that nickname acceptable.

"Sorry," Axel muttered, although he clearly wasn't. "But listen; I found a cheap place to stay, and it's close to my new job."

"You got an house _and_ a job?" Roxas expertly raised a single brow, taking a bite of his burger.

"Give me some more credit, Roxas." The older man pouted, which only resulted in Roxas rolling his eyes. "And it's not really a job, yet; I have to train for it first, and I may not even make it in."

"Sounds serious." The waitress swung by and filled their mugs; Roxas had decaf, Axel caffeinated.

"I guess…" Axel gave a mischievous grin, causing Roxas' stomach to churn. What the hell had the redhead gotten himself into now? "I'm going to go the fire fighter academy," he admitted, tilting the hot coffee to his lips.

The blood quickly drained from Roxas' face, uncontrollable- irrational -concern bubbling up in his stomach as the words sunk in. Axel, as a firefighter; Axel running through a building that's on _**fire**_, saving people? Since when did he care about anyone other than himself?

Food is supposed to go down your esophagus, but in response to this grave news, the ground beef that made up the burger that Roxas was eating- and Axel was stealing bites of –decided to make a statement, and hopped into and down the blond's windpipe.

Hacking like a cat with a hairball, and making wonderfully attractive noises, Roxas noted that Axel ran to his shorter friend's rescue, hopping up from his seat on the other side of the table. Roxas' eyes were watering, making it hard to see where Axel disappeared to; until he felt two strong arms slink around his waist. He jumped at the contact, but soon was thankful when he felt the redhead's tightly closed fists slam into and up against his ribs, and with a few well-placed poundings, the disgusting remnants of the burger flew from Roxas' open mouth, leaving the boy heaving deep breaths and coughing feebly, leaning back against Axel's chest.

"I'll take that as a 'congratulations'."

* * *

Axel went to his fire-fighting 'classes' every day of the week, and sometimes on Saturday, for two months. And today, Friday, he was taking his final written test; in two weeks, they would know who passed that course, and those select few would continue on in the physical training.

Roxas was there to greet him when he stepped out from the old brownstone building. The redhead sauntered out, surrounded by a mass of people with whom he was chattering amiably.

On it's own, a small smile appeared on Roxas' face; Axel was good at making friends. He was also good at making enemies, or so the petite blond had heard. The crowd was now laughing uproariously at something Axel had told them. Roxas chuckled softly to himself.

Finally, the group broke up with cries of,

"See you tonight, guys! Don't forget; Sid's bar!"

Roxas had worked at Sid's for a while, but quit shortly after starting his college classes. It was an awkward place for him now, ever since he'd seen Seifer in there, and started that… well… it was something he wasn't proud of.

The blond managed to catch Axel's attention with a small, nonchalant wave. Axel's face broke into his signature smirk, a cigarette pushed between his thin lips.

"Hey Roxas!" he exclaimed, clearly wired on _something_, loping towards his shorter friend. The blond was about to smile and reply, but his stomach clenched strangely when he saw Axel's arm around a woman's waist. Roxas hadn't known of Axel having a _girlfriend_, let alone one who was in the academy with him.

"Uh, hey, Axel."

"This is Larxene," the redhead introduced, calming down and taking a deep drag on his cigarette before exhaling heavily. Suspicious, Roxas sniffed discreetly at the air; no, it wasn't pot, just a regular nicotine stick.

"Pleasure," Roxas mumbled, acting overly polite. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a puzzled look flash over his friend's face. The woman was almost as tall as Axel, skinnier, bonier, with slicked back, white gold hair. It looked as if she'd divided her bangs in half, and then gelled them into two bent antennae-like objects, which bounced with every movement she made.

"Axel, you ass, he's not five-foot-eight!" Her voice was harsh and grating, with a condescending note. Roxas held back a growl, instead turning toward Axel.

"How do you think you did?" he asked, referring to the test.

"I totally passed." he dismissed, flicking his wrist and sending ashes everywhere.

"Seifer and Hayner are going out to dinner tonight, remember?" Roxas started, trying hard to not look at Larxene. Axel's arm fell away from the woman's waist, but she moved to quickly link her elbow through his. "You're coming, right?"

Roxas held his tone uncaring, even when he felt anger and insecurity bubble up. Seifer and Hayner had planned this night weeks ago, but Roxas had constantly reminded his scramble-brained companion; it appeared he'd forgotten. He wasn't about to go to a dinner with those two lovebirds without someone else to talk to.

"Well, Roxas-"

"Sorry short stuff, but the academy is getting together for drinks at Sid's tonight. I'd invite you along, but you're in, what, the fucking fifth grade?" Her cackle reminded Roxas of a wicked witch.

"Sorry, kid." Axel's voice was cool and controlled. Roxas felt like a younger sibling trying to tag along with his older brother, which was ironic considering he actually _had_ an older brother. "Tell Seifer I said hi, will ya?"

Roxas didn't go to dinner.

* * *

Two weeks after Axel took the test, he called Roxas up and invited him over to his place, to ceremoniously open his letter from the academy to see if he had passed. After not having seen his friend at all during those two weeks, Roxas obligingly hopped unto the cross-town bus, the address scribbled on a small yellow post-it note that was stuck inside his pants pocket.

The building was a two-story brownstone on a smaller side street, with scrawny trees circled by personal fences littering the sidewalks, which were clean, and the buildings seemed relatively new and freshly painted. Axel's place was painted a strange grey lilac color; very feminine, or so Roxas thought.

A Yamaha bike, sleek and of a fairly new model – it was Roxas' first time seeing the thing – glimmered in the driveway, painted a fashionable mixture of glossy black and silver, with highlights of red. The helmets (two of them hung from the handlebars) were painted with flames, of course.

Before he could get in his second knock, the door flew open to reveal his taller, older friend, dressed casually in a too-big navy t-shirt and torn jeans, his unruly hair tugged back into a ponytail.

"Hey, Roxas." he drawled, smirking lazily. "Come in, and let's see if we passed!"

"'We'?"

"Oh…yeah…"

"Axel, what the fuck are you- Oh, shit." The woman grimaced, not even making an effort to hide her sentiments. "You could have told me you were inviting him over, Axel!" She hissed, gesturing to her tube top and short-shorts. Her hair was still arranged with the strange antennae, which Roxas took to mean that they were a regular, everyday hairstyle.

"Hello," Roxas growled, shoving in past Axel, who stood awkwardly to the side before quietly closing the door and leading the way into the living room. Roxas settled unto the wrap-around couch, Axel sitting a few seats over, closer to where Larxene settled, passing Axel the letters.

"How was that dinner with Hayner and Seifer?" the redhead mumbled, holding his letter out in front of him a moment before working at the seal.

"I didn't go." Roxas deadpanned, tone cold. He sat rigidly, knees pressed together, hands gripping to the edges of his cargo shorts, elbows bent and pulled in, back ramrod straight.

"Oh, okay."

"What does it say?" Roxas sighed, loosening from his statue-still pose to rake a hand tiredly back through his hair. Axel shrugged, shaking the letter out from it's business-like, stiff folds, laser-green eyes scanning row after row, brow furrowing.

"I didn't make it…."

It took Roxas a moment to realize it was Larxene that said this, and couldn't keep the smirk off his face, though he quickly fought to remove it.

"I'm sorry, Larxene." Axel murmured, reaching out to touch her arm. She stiffened and shrugged off his touch, crossing her arms across her chest.

"What about you, Axel?" she spat, glaring heatedly at his letter.

"…I made it. I have to show up at the precinct on Monday to start my on-site training."

Roxas could hear the excitement beneath Axel's disinterested tone, and felt a burning hatred towards Larxene for ruining this moment for his friend.

"That's great, Axel." Roxas breathed, smiling genuinely. "We should go tell Hayner and Seifer, we can go out, celebrate." He watched Axel's eyes light up.

"Axel, please. Where the hell are you going to go with this minor? Besides, I have to start looking for a new job. I need you to look through the newspaper, while I go online." She was whining, but still managed to sound menacing.

"Axel-"

"No, kid, she's right. Besides, it's not like I'm on the squad or anything, right? If I make it into an actual firehouse, then I'll let you drag my ass out to wherever the hell you want, and we'll party it up, okay? Just… not today."

"Fine." Roxas shot up, his knees knocking painfully against a coffee table. He locked gazes with Larxene, finding the challenge buried in her narrow eyes. His lips set into a firm scowl as he tugged the door open and slammed it closed, jogging angrily towards the street and sliding his phone out of his pocket.

"Hey, Hayner, can you pick me up?" Roxas gave Hayner the address, striding angrily down the street and out of view of the damned duplex.

"Uhm… yeah. Let me get the keys, I'll be right over. You know, Roxas, you really should get your own-"

"Thanks, Hayner, see you in a few."

Roxas hung up quickly, not wanting to get another one of _those_ talks. He found a small bench at the entrance to a park and sat down, crossing his arms tight across his jacketed chest.

Goddamn Larxene.

No, goddamn Axel- damn him for ever finding her attractive, for deciding she was going to live with him, damn him for being spineless and letting her walk all over him, for giving up his best friend and-

Fuck, no, this wasn't going to be about him. It was going to be about Axel, and how bad _he_ had it…

A car horn blared, jolting Roxas out of his smoldering anger.

"Roxas, get your ass in the car."

Smirking, and trying to lighten his thoughts, Roxas settled into the passenger seat of the silver sedan, propping his feet up against the dashboard simply because he knew that Seifer would later find shoeprints and blow a gasket.

"What are you doing around here, Roxas?" Hayner grumbled, eyes focused on the road.

"I was just at Axel's new place, to see if he passed his academy test."

"Oh, yeah, the results! Did he make it?" A warm grin split Hayner's face, and he spared Roxas a single glance before turning back to the road. Roxas chuckled; the other teen was so nervous when he drove Seifer's car.

"He made it," Roxas sighed, shrugging. "But his damn girlfriend…"

"Girlfriend?" Hayner's eyebrows rose, and when they stopped momentarily at a stoplight, he turned and gave Roxas a quizzical glance.

"Yeah, he's known her for a little over two weeks, and she's already living with him and making his life a living hell, and she didn't make it into the fucking academy, so she rained all over Axel's parade. She won't even let him come out and celebrate with us, because she needs help finding a new job!"

"Roxas, you're yelling." Hayner whispered, eyes glued to the road. He wasn't going to let Roxas be the reason he would total Seifer's car.

"….Sorry. But she just irritates me so much. I haven't seen Axel in over two weeks, and it looks like I won't be seeing him much now, since he's going to start training at the firehouse and stuff." Roxas fought to keep his voice quiet, taking deep, calming breaths and clenching his fists tightly. After a few minutes, the anger lead to sorrow; would he ever get to see his friend again? What if Larxene got ideas of _marriage_ into Axel's head? If she was able to convince Axel to let her move in with him within two weeks of knowing each other, who knew what this vixen (albeit ugly, but still a vixen) was capable of?

Beside him, Hayner chuckled as he turned into Roxas' parking lot.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just that… you sound…" The car pulled up to the entrance of Roxas' building, stopped, idled.

"I sound what?"

"You… you sound jealous, man."

Luckily for Hayner, he was able to predict some form of physical harm, and ducked the punch that Roxas aimed for his head, pushing the short-tempered blond out the door and revving the engine. Before he drove away, he said, just loud enough for Roxas to hear;

"Think about it."


	4. Trials and Tribulations

**Author's Note:**

Well. Axel. You made it! Congratulations! :]

I kind of want to do some more of a Chickenwuss sort of thing—trading off in characters. So part of the next chapter may be from Axel's point of view. We'll have to see. I still am considering re-doing Chickenwuss, because Seifer is SO OUT OF CHARACTER omg.

++ I was serious you guys. I got 2 reviews for that Harry Potter fic, and it got over 100 views in the span of two days. Luckily, I hated how it was written, so I took it down. That is, I'm re-writing it. It's really hard to write for those characters, because so little is written about them in the first place.

I am pretty much working **only** on GIM, Full Moon, Chain of Events, and am thinking of doing another NaruSasu piece. Any other ideas, feel free to put them into a review.

* * *

Axel's first weeks at the precinct were manic.

Well, actually, scratch that—Axel's first weeks were manic for everyone else.

He was always coming home singed, or blackened, or missing an inch or so of hair. He hadn't even experienced his first real fire yet. It made Roxas a little nauseous to think about the lanky redhead strolling into a burning building.

Within the first two weeks of his new job training, Axel and Larxene broke up. No one but the offending parties were upset by this fact, however. Roxas could only handle hanging out with Hayner for so long, and it was getting harder to avoid Seifer.

Axel's side of the story was that Larxene had been lonely, because Axel had been too busy with surviving fire fighter training to pay good attention to her. Roxas thought that was bullshit, and that Larxene had been and always would be a player, and once she saw that Axel was too busy for her needs, she'd made it obvious that she had been sleeping around from the beginning.

Poor Axel really took it hard. For some reason Roxas, Hayner and Seifer couldn't begin to fathom, the pyromaniac had begun to really _feel_ for the sadistic blonde bitch. He moped around for days on end, until Roxas was finally dumped in front of the redhead's house.

"He needs _someone_," Hayner had hissed by way of explanation, while shoving the short blonde out the passenger door. "At least you met her!"

So, here he was, standing on Axel's doorstep, noting how the redhead's motorcycle only had one helmet dangling off of the handlebars. It struck a chord in Roxas, for some reason, and he wondered what Axel had done with the other one.

No one answered the door, but instead of making Roxas feel self-assured, it made the younger boy all the more nervous. He turned the doorknob angrily, surprised when the door fell open against his touch. The smell of stale beer wafted through the hallway, causing Roxas to cough loudly.

"Axel?" He shut the door softly behind himself and slid off his shoes, treading lightly towards the living room. The coffee table was strewn with empty beer bottles and full six packs; Axel was thrown along the couch, arm flung over his eyes, beer bottle hanging from his limp fingers.

"Axel!" Irrationally, Roxas surged forward and shook his taller friend, who stirred and then shot up, his hair falling in wild disarray around his face.

"Rozzas?" he slurred, squinting.

"…. Axel, you douche!" Roxas scowled and huffed, awkwardly pressing a hand against his racing heartbeat.

"Whazza matter, Rozzy? Whaturyou doin' here?"

"Axel. How. Many. Drinks. Have. You. Had?" For some reason, Roxas had an endless supply of patience with Axel. He pointed to corresponding objects as he slowly enunciated the words in his sentence, keeping his face blank of emotion.

"A whole-lot." He slurred the two words together, pushing his bottle to his lips with the motion. Roxas picked up one of the opened bottles that still contained amber liquid off the table and took a swig, for his own sake.

"Is this all about Larxene?" he asked softly, sitting himself at Axel's feet.

"Thabitch."

The stoic silence was broken within seconds as the two broke into raucous laughter. Axel's was wet and drunk and messy, Roxas' was loud and free, and awkward with lack of practice. Luckily Axel was too drunk to comment on it.

"Did she tell you why she left?" Roxas asked, taking a heavier swig on his beer, because he hoped it would help his strange awkward feelings to fade away.

"I wasn' enough for her anymore." The redhead sighed, running a hand back through his hair. He managed to sit up and lean against the back of the couch, belching loudly in the process.

"Look…. Axel… she wasn't worth it."

"Wha' would you knowabouit Rozzy?" Axel growled, his words coming out a little clearer. Roxas raised his bottle again, but was startled to find it empty. Axel placed another bottle into the blonde's hands with a weak smile. Roxas' stomach churned, and he did exactly what he always had been told _not_ to do when you feel sick – take a huge swig of beer.

"She… she was a player, Axel. You can't deny that. She didn't really care about you." He mumbled the words against the mouth of the bottle, hanging his head dejectedly. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at his shoe-bare feet. The smell of beer was warm and bitter and it only made him thirstier. He'd never been a real huge drinker, but he always loosened up with a few ounces of alcohol pumping in his veins, and one thing Roxas had to do was loosen up more often.

"…" Axel's mouth opened, closed, opened again, and was quickly filled with a splash of beer.

"You really cared for her, huh, Axel?"

The room was filled with an awkward silence as Roxas swirled his bottle by the neck, Axel tilting his head back and squinting his neon emerald eyes in a glare aimed at the ceiling. A car rolled by on the street outside, a muted whoosh of wind under the tires.

"I…" Axel's face turned red beneath his angular tattoos, "She was goo'in bed, mostly." Roxas snickered, and was eventually joined with raucous drunk chuckles by his taller companion. Somehow, Roxas had emptied his second bottle of beer and was moving on to his third, idly pulling at loose threads along the waistband of his jeans. There was an aroma wafting around the room under the strong scent of beer, and it was beginning to bother the slightly tipsy blonde.

"You'll find someone be'er, Axel." Roxas grumbled, a little surprised when his words slid together so easily. "If you don' die ina fire furs."

"Rozzas, your drunk." Axel pointed out, sitting up a little straighter and placing his bottle on the coffee table.

"Not as badly as you," Roxas managed to say, fighting hard not to slur. The blonde leaned forward unto his knees, leaning slightly towards Axel. Within moments, that underlying smell grew stronger. It was a tantalizing mix of spice, Axe, and smoke – but the kind of smoke that comes from a blown-out match, heady and almost sweet. It was overwhelming within a few moments, and yet Roxas could have breathed the ambrosia-esque smell every day, every minute and been quite content. Or maybe that was the three and a half bottles of beer talking.

"Axel… yoosmell amaa-aa-zee-ng," he slurred, drawing out the words as he pushed his bottle down against the wooden tabletop. Axel lifted an arm and stuck his nose into an armpit, inhaling deeply before shrugging.

"Ahdunno man, Ah jus' smell li' me." He giggled, falling forward against Roxas in the process. The two collapsed back into the other armrest, Roxas pinned beneath Axel's longer, stretched weight. They continued to laugh, Axel's head buried in the couch by Roxas' left ear, Roxas' head thrown back as his stomach convulsed painfully.

"Stoppit, Axel. My… stomach… ooowww." Roxas' laughter finally subsided into a subdued moan of pain, until the room was silent once more. The smell of _Axel_ was getting intoxicating, the blonde turning his head to bury his nose in the red hair that was splayed out from his left shoulder. A warm pressure began to press at the nape of Roxas' neck, followed by a wet sensation, which the boy quickly recognized.

_Mouth. Warm. Wet… Tongue… __**Axel**_.

He moaned softly, angling himself and sighing as the ministrations moved up to beneath his ear, the redhead's tongue making slow, small circles behind the blonde's earlobe.

The two moved to arrange Axel's gangly proportions, Roxas' hands rapidly moving up and under the redhead's shirt, his fingers splayed against a smooth stomach, the outlines of a forming six-pack faintly palpable.

"They're… workin'you…. _Ah-_" His words broke off into a broken gasp as he felt hips grind down against his own. Lights began to flicker behind his eyelids, and the boy immediately arched upwards, his hands pulling the redhead down against him. They were moving quickly—fluttery motion of fingertips across red-hot and cool-blue skin, hips pressing warmly and wholly against each other, mouths working voraciously against pulsing arteries and prominent collarbones. Axel's skin tasted nearly as good as it smelled, and millions of images fluttered through Roxas' head before, suddenly, the world went blank, just after a hissed,

"_Roxas--!_"

* * *

"My… fuckin' _head_." Roxas sat up slowly, clutching to his blonde spikes as if to keep his head from rolling off of its sturdy neck-perch. The room spun nauseatingly, but he was able to make out a coffee table littered with empty amber bottles, and his first thought was,

_Where the _hell_ am I?_

It took only a second to realize that he wasn't alone; he was lying on the floor next to the couch, and someone was _on_ the couch. Another second later and he found that he was shirtless. Luckily for Roxas, he'd gotten a good education – outside of the classroom.

"Oh _**shit!**_"

First, he had to find his shirt. Somehow, the damned thing had gotten halfway across the room, and being dizzier than a tilt-o-whirl on speed made it nearly impossible to get to, let alone put on. He wasn't even going to try and tie his shoes. The door was easy to master, but getting home was going to be something else entirely.

At first, he pulled his phone from his pants pocket, but then, considering how he must _look_, and how drunk he was, he realized that he really didn't want to have to explain everything to Hayner. So he loped, in a very hung-over fashion, to the bus stop, sat his ass down firmly on the bench, and waited. For the first few moments, he had to keep putting his arms out in an effort to keep his balance. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this badly wasted, let alone in public.

The neighborhood itself was deserted, and Roxas hadn't been able to stop the numbers on his watch from dancing in a nauseating circle, but judging by the amount of light that was burning his retinas, he guessed it was about six in the evening.

When his cheap-beer induced mental haze waned every couple of minutes, his first thought was, why hadn't Hayner shown up to get him? He supposed he was happy that his friend hadn't come by and found him, drunk and shirtless in Axel's living room. … On Axel's couch … With Axel.

To be honest, he actually couldn't really remember much that happened past … uhm… the two collapsing on each other in laughter. He remembered how awful he sounded when he laughed. God, that must have been attractive. Not that he _cared _whether or not Axel found him attractive, but come on; it must have sounded so nerdy. But they had been drunk, so it really didn't matter what they did or said. Nothing happened, anyway. Axel had just… Axel … Axel had… and Roxas had… Well, Roxas hadn't done anything! He'd just lain there. He'd writhed underneath that mouth… those warm fingers and those fluid hips…

The hissing sound of the bus door opening jolted Roxas back to the present, slightly hot and bothered. Rubbing one hand along his nape, the young man uneasily walked up the steps and deposited the fare, falling ungracefully into the first available seat. Normally, Roxas did all he could to keep a low profile; to appear like your average citizen-- to not stand out. Stumbling drunkenly up the bus steps and falling dizzily into a seat was not going to help that. But he'd rather soil his blasé persona with a hung-over rebellious teenager façade, than to be known as…

With a tired, angry sigh, Roxas shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He pulled from his pocket the large blue marble, glimmering in the heavy golden light of the setting sun.

Axel was his friend. Axel was absentminded, a bit of a jerk, and immature, but he was Roxas' friend. He couldn't – no, he _wouldn't_ – let something this stupid ruin what they had going. Besides, the redhead wouldn't be able to survive without Roxas to keep him grounded. At least… that's what he told himself.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

I am serious you guys. I don't put these up here for my own use. Even if you HATE a story, let me know. I put up polls for your use--- I want to write what YOU WANT TO READ! I get such a high out of a review, good or bad. I seriously won't upload anything new if I don't get any reviews. I would most likely finish any chapter fics… but that's just because I hate leaving things half-assed.


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